


A Rainy Day Off

by S_G_M



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal, Chocolate, Erotic, Honey, M/M, Sex, Sweet, blowjob, rainy day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_G_M/pseuds/S_G_M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cancelled picnic turns into an afternoon of sexy fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rainy Day Off

Rain lightly drizzled down on London on an April morning, as John and Sherlock sat down to their morning tea.  
Most days, John never could convince Sherlock to have anything more than a cup of tea for breakfast, but he supposed that at least it was something.  
"Well, I suppose there goes our picnic plans." John stated, glancing out the window.  
Sherlock was silently pleased about this. He never had been that keen on picnics, though he went along with having one every so often for John's sake.  
It just didn't seem rational to eat outside in the elements with dust, bugs and insects, and possibly small animals interrupting the meal, as well as the lack of privacy. Not when there were plenty of indoor places to eat.  
"Too bad." Sherlock told him, taking a sip of his earl grey and wishing that there was a case to help occupy his mind.  
It had been a while since they'd had a good one, but alas, the few clients that he'd chosen to take on had had relatively simple cases for him and Lestrade hadn't contacted him, either.  
"I suppose we could go to the shops." John suggested, since he had the day off and they hadn't really planned the day other than the now cancelled picnic. "We are out of milk and fresh produce, after all."  
Sherlock let out a small sigh.  
"Boring." He stated, setting down his half-empty tea cup and watching John.  
"Boring or not, it still needs to be done. I'm going after breakfast, come along or don't, it's up to you." John replied, taking a bite of toast and orange marmalade.

At the last moment, just as John was slipping his shoes on, Sherlock decided to join him.  
Of course, he still had to groom and dress himself, so John had to wait.  
It didn't take too long, and by the time Sherlock had emerged from the bedroom, John had only been waiting perhaps five minutes.  
Thankfully, Sherlock was not one to take long to get ready to go out.  
As Sherlock slipped on his customary coat, John gave him a once over.  
He was wearing that purple silk shirt that John so loved, the one that fit just a little too tightly in some areas and showcased that delicious hollow in Sherlock's neck perfectly.  
John licked his lips and cleared his throat, clearing his head.  
He unlocked the door and opened it, holding it for Sherlock to pass through.

John had wanted to take a cab, but Sherlock had disagreed with that entirely.  
The rain had nearly stopped, and it wasn't really all that bad.  
"It's wet and chilly, I don't want to walk all that way in this weather." John complained, sounding just a touch sulky.  
"It's not that far, and it's warming up already." Sherlock told him, beginning down the sidewalk.  
John sighed, and followed him, looking grumpy. "Fine." He huffed.

The shop wasn't too far, only eight blocks or so, and John had found that the walk had been fairly enjoyable, all things considered.  
Everything that they'd wanted had been in stock, and Sherlock had found a couple of extra items.  
John noted the extra curl in Sherlock's hair from the humidity, and he wanted to run his fingers through the soft ringlets.  
Sherlock pretended not to notice, as their groceries were rung through by an elderly bloke behind the till.

While they had been shopping, the sun had come out from behind the dull grey clouds.  
Sherlock, suddenly lost in his thoughts, strode ahead a little bit, forgetting John momentarily.  
John didn't mind too much, as the view was pretty decent.  
It was nearly ten minutes, before Sherlock snapped out of it and realised that John was lagging behind.  
"Damn your short legs." Sherlock said teasingly with a shake of his head.  
"It's not as though you could be a bit more considerate." John teased back, and Sherlock smiled.  
John shifted the bags in his hands, and Sherlock offered to take them.  
"No, I've got them." John declined, stepping over a puddle.  
Sherlock shrugged. "All right." He said, thinking about one of the little extras he'd picked up at the shop.  
His luscious mouth curled ever so slightly in a sly grin, which John picked up on.  
"What? What is it?" He asked curiously, concking his head to the side.  
Sherlock gave him a smug look. "Oh, you'll see soon enough." He promised.

After they'd gotten home, Sherlock suggested that John take a quick shower while he put everything away.  
John did feel a touch grungy after the walk, and agreed easily.  
As John enjoyed his hot shower, the water playing over his skin relaxingly, Sherlock took care of things.  
He'd kept aside the bottle of organic wildflower honey that he'd chosen from the shelves on a whim, as well as a squeeze container of chocolate drizzle.  
He had wanted to pick up a can of whipped cream as well, but knew that John would have instantly figured things out.  
There was only one use for whipped cream in 221b, and it most certainly was not for topping desserts with.  
Sherlock brought the bottles into the bedroom, spritzed the room with rose water, drew the curtains closed, and lit some candles.  
Between John's work, the few cases that Sherlock had taken on, and some drama regarding Harry (John's sister) that John had needed to travel to Wales over, they'd had a bit of a dry spell between the sheets.  
Which Sherlock was endeavoring to put an end to.

John had just gotten out of the shower, when he'd heard a loud 'thump'.  
"Sherlock? Everything all right?" He'd called, wondering what had happened.  
"Fine." Sherlock nearly choked out, having somehow tripped over his own feet walking to the kitchen to take out some ice cubes and had fallen to the floor.  
He got up from the floor, swiftly took the ice cubes out of the icebox and popped them into a bowl, before making his way back to the bedroom.  
John was still in the bathroom, which gave him some time.  
Sherlock stripped out of his clothes, and lay on the bed, his lean and subtly muscled form softly lit by the candlelight.  
He could hear John turn the bathroom's doorknob, and walk down the hall, a fluffy green towel around his slightly chubby waist.  
He could smell the rosewater and the candles, making the connection.  
John bit his lip, feeling a stir in his loins as he began thinking about the sorts of things that he wanted to do to Sherlock.

John walked into the bedroom and couldn't help but stare at Sherlock.  
He just looked so amazing; the light played along his body, the illumination serving to make Sherlock look even more dramatic than usual.  
He stepped over to the bed, leaning over and tasting Sherlock's mouth gently,biting his lover's bottom lip firmly but not too roughly, his hands snaking into those gorgeous curls that he adored.  
Sherlocks hands absconded John of his towel, flinging it onto the floor.  
Their breathing grew heavier, their hands playing along one another's bodies as though they were still new partners.  
John climbed on top of Sherlock, setting his butt down just above Sherlock's now raging erection.  
John kissed, licked, and nibbled his way across Sherlock's chest, taking each firm nub of a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around in the way that Sherlock liked.  
He could hear an intake of breath as he clamped his teeth down carefully on Sherlock's left nipple, felt a twitch from the hot cock pressed against his back.  
Without so much as a hint of warning, Sherlock flipped John onto his back, taking over the dominant lead.  
He reached over to the bedside table and took the honey from it, uncapping it.  
Sherlock turned the bottle upside down and drizzled a path of the sweet, golden liquid from the base of John's neck, all the way down to his towering stiffness.  
He kissed John's mouth, then his cheek, nibbled his neck, and then tasted the honey on his chest.  
John closed his eyes as Sherlock continued down the path that he'd made for himself, languidly cleansing John of every drop of honey.  
By the time that he'd reached John's pubic area, John had grown increasingly sensitive.

Every little lick was becoming a delightful torture, and Sherlock knew it.  
He touched and tasted everywhere but John's loins, purposely ignoring the area, making John grow more impatient.  
"Sherlock... Please..." He nearly begged, looking pained as sweat began to glisten on his skin.  
Sherlock picked up the bottle of chocolate, popping the cap off, and letting it drip from the bottle onto John's ridgid member.  
Just the feeling from that alone made John moan, and that throaty sound just about put Sherlock over the edge.  
John's vocal noises always did produce quite the effect on him, and they were the utmost sexiest thing that Sherlock had ever heard.  
Sherlock lapped at John's testicles, where the dark liquid had oozed down and pooled.  
John squirmed, his hips giving an unconscious buck.  
Sherlock put his large hands on John's hips, steadying him.  
After all, John had nearly jabbed Sherlock in the eye just then.  
Sherlock continued, his fingers playing along John's skin, as he let his tongue skim the underside of John's length, before mouthing the tip.  
Sherlock could taste the precum mixed with the chocolate, and it was a heady combination.  
He was so hard that he nearly ached, but still, he focused on John's satisfaction.  
Sherlock often put John first in most areas of his life, and it was no different when it came to sex.  
John's breathing grew ragged, as Sherlock took the entire thing down his throat.  
He bobbed his head up and down, taking every inch of that hard cock into his throat and mouth, swallowing a few times for good measure.  
Just before John could come, Sherlock let it slip out of his mouth with a 'pop', letting John cool down for a few moments, delaying the pleasure so that it would be greater when it arrived.

John pleaded, his words fervent and almost pitiful.  
Sherlock repeated this a few more times, until John could only make nonsensical sentence fragments.  
Sherlock moved up, straddling John as he'd done earlier, kissing him deeply.  
The kiss was leisurely, despite John's urgent need for release.  
Just as the sensations were beginning to ebb, Sherlock made his way back down, and began passionately blowing John.  
The orgasm that he induced was enough to make John see explosions of fireworks; the storm of outright pleasure that tore violently through him had him calling out his lover's name repeatedly.  
It was unlike any other orgasm that he'd experienced before; it wasn't necessarily stronger, but the way that it had overtaken him and hijacked his senses... It had been completely amazing.  
Afterwards, he lay there, panting and sweaty, while Sherlock looked absolutely pleased with himself.  
John was utterly spent, but knew that Sherlock was still unsatisfied.  
He rolled onto his side, opening the drawer in the bedside table, and brought out a little bottle of grape flavoured lubricant.  
John passed it to Sherlock, manoeuvrings onto his knees and presenting his hindquarters.  
Sherlock knew John was exhausted and oversensitive.  
"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked a little uncertainly, and John confirmed.

Sherlock applied some warmed lube to John's tight entrance, easily slipping a finger inside.  
He slid a bit onto his rock hard erection, and positioned himself.  
He slowly entered John, savouring the taut heat enveloping him.  
Sherlock let out a low throaty groan as his entire member was submerged into John's remarkable arse.  
He began moving his hip, trying to be gentle for John's sake, but found himself unable to keep from increasing his speed and force.  
It wasn't long before Sherlock's own orgasm overtook him, and he plummeted over the edge into sexual oblivion.   
Sherlock's gentle moans as he spilled his seed made John smile.  
It was a few moments before he could move at all, but afterwards, Sherlock withdrew himself and lay beside John.  
They embraced one another, far too tired to clean up, whispering sweet nothings to each other as they fell into pleasant dreams.


End file.
